Eternal Instants
by It's-A-Passion
Summary: Like the click of a camera and the snapping of shutters, capturing moments in time and eternalizing them. A self-contained series of mostly unconnected moments, short fics and brief drabbles that take a closer look into the lives of our favourite X-Men and X-Women. Based on one-word prompts.


Eternal Instants

_Chasing _

Marie shoved the wooden door open so hard it swung back to hit the wall, emitting a loud crack. Artificial yellow light swamped the slick, muddied yard ahead of her. She ran out into the night, into the pouring, pelting rain. She would have liked to feel the cold liquid hit her exposed skin in a watery caress. She would have liked there to be no barriers between her and the rain.

But there was. There always was.

She was covered, from neck to toe, in material. In clothing. There was very little exposed; she didn't get to wear shorts and singlet's in the middle of summer when it was sweltering hot. She couldn't risk accidentally brushing up against someone else, and having her skin meet theirs.

Because of her mutation, human contact was impossible for her. But she craved it. Needed it. And even though she should be used to it, she could never stop the hurt jolting through her when people retracted their skin from hers, or put that little extra distance between them and her than the usually acceptable distance. It shouldn't bother her. She got it. She understood why they did it. She did.

It just felt like someone had punched her in the gut every time they did.

It wasn't fair. Why did _she_ have to draw the short straw? Why did _she_ have to be the _oh so lucky_ one to be gifted with dangerous, life-sucking skin? She wanted to be able to kiss her boyfriend, and hold his hand. She wanted to be able to hug her friends without them freezing up and internally freaking out about their proximity. It had been so long that she'd almost completely forgotten what it felt like to just trace silly unintelligible patterns with her pinky fingers across someone else's skin.

Was that so wrong? Did the gods hate her so much that they cursed her with this skin?

She missed the times when she didn't fear coming into contact with someone else. And it was _so exhausting._

It was exhausting to be strung so tight every time she was in people's company. It was exhausting to control her movements so that she didn't impulsively throw her arms around someone. It was exhausting, being so darn careful. All. The. Time.

She just wanted to _feel_. To touch. To _caress_.

She just stopped thinking and ran. She had to get away, away from it all. Away from the chatter, the laughter, the happiness oozing out of every pore, confronting her at every corner she turned. She just had to get away.

Pushing forward, she paused only long enough to pull off her boots and throw them to the side. The slopping sound was loud as her feet sunk into the thick mud, slapping her ankles. It wiggled in between her toes, coating her skin, and making her almost want to cry at how deliriously good it felt. How freeing it was.

She concentrated on the feeling of her skin. The humid night had brought with it rain hours ago, and inside the mansion the atmosphere had been stifling. The droplets were cooling against her heated skin. But the air was still thick and she was choking on it. Still, she ran.

Further and further, away from it all. She let the experience wash over her, let it drown out her thoughts that were just as dangerous for her to choke on as the thick air. Her blinked back the sting as tears leapt to her eyes, spilling over and falling.

Her clothing clung to her every movement, drenched with rain and sweat and mud, and that was hardly the first time she felt claustrophobic in her own skin. Bound by it. Caught by it. Imprisoned by it. Her hair was plastered to her head and neck, smothering her, fat raindrops running down her body.

She reached a ring of trees and she pushed through the ferns and bushes to get to the tiny clearing at the middle. There, she stopped and just stood. Her breath rasping in her throat, pain searing her legs. She turned her face to the sky and closed her eyes, concentrating on the droplets as they slid down her face. Slowly, she peeled off her gloves. Then her jacket. Then her long sleeved shirt. Then her jeans, until she was clad in only her underwear, in the middle of a storm.

Lightning jaded across the sky in a burst, and a few seconds passed before she heard the deafening, bone shuddering crack of thunder accompanying it. She stood there, letting the rain pelt her body until it felt raw and sore.

It didn't matter if it hurt, because she was feeling it. All over her body, she was feeling it. It wasn't the skin to skin contact she hungered after, but for the time being, it was enough. It had to be enough, if only to stop the swirling of suffocating thoughts inside her head, threatening to drive her insane.

She didn't know how long she stayed there like that, absorbed in the sensation. Minutes. Hours. Seconds.

From the darkness, the trees seemed to call her name.

"Marie." But a whisper.

"Marie." Louder this time.

"Marie." Louder again, but deeper. Rough. It sent a shiver down her spine.

"Marie." Close. So close, his voice called out to her.

"Marie." A hoarse whisper next to her ear. Her eyes fluttered open and she gasped at the warm breath on the back of her neck. She spun around to face him, panting, drenched to the bone, in only her underwear.

"Marie. It's goin' to be okay, darlin'," he growled out. His eyes were intense and hooded, and she couldn't stop staring at them as they bored into her own eyes. "You can't give up yet. Not yet, darlin'. Not now."

Her eyes squeezed shut again, and her legs just gave out. She was so exhausted. Strong arms circled her, stopping her fall before it even began, and her face buried in the expanse of jacket covered chest. She breathed in the smell of tobacco. It soothed her somewhat, and she felt calmer than she had all night.

"What are you doing out here, Logan?" Her voice wasn't much more than a breathy whisper, muffled by his jacket and distorted from the echo of her tears.

"Chasin' you, darlin'. Chasin' you."

It was all he said, and she wanted to cry again.

**So, I thought I'd kick of this series with a bit of fluff. Because I'm such a sucker for fluff.**

**But I'd love it if you'd let me know what you thought.**

**If anyone has any prompts they'd like me to do, or any characters they'd like to read, just say the word :)**

**Thanks for reading!**


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